Ranma One Half: For Honor and Love
by JJ Corley
Summary: An ill fated accident at Jusenkyo leaves a young, cursed Ranma in China. Returning to Japan at the age of 28, a more mature Ranma faces the battle ground known as Nerima. Note: Semi-Prequal Ranma Alternate Universe for NGE: HD


Ranma 1/2: For Honor and Love  
  
--------------  
  
Sometimes, things happen. Sometimes, things don't.  
  
And sometimes, things don't happen as they should.  
  
--------------  
  
Nerima Ward, Tokyo, Japan.  
  
She had, as always, woken early; watching her dreams fade, and with them  
  
the vivid passion that filled her mind as she dreamt. Of him.  
  
The psychologists had said it was foolish. Her sisters... Well,  
  
one regarded her as a complete nutcase for living a 'celibate' life,  
  
while the other respected her and the honor that she upheld for their  
  
family.  
  
For her... the Art was all. Honor was all. He was all.  
  
Spinster, some called her. That she chose to remain unwed past  
  
the age regarded normal, that she did not uphold the belief that women  
  
should marry young, be the support for their man and cleaner of his  
  
house for all of their life, never daring to aspire to anything more...  
  
this attitude gained her nothing. The elderly thought her a menace,  
  
while the young thought her to be a symbol for women's rights. In truth,  
  
she was neither, only going through the motions of living, all the while  
  
waiting for the one to whom she had been promised. And he had not yet  
  
come.  
  
Her thoughts reflected this as she prayed in the family dojo,  
  
bowed before the shrine, which represented her mother and father. And  
  
she prayed to them, every morning, always for the same thing. `Give me  
  
the strength to carry on; your school, your promise, your future, your  
  
dreams. Please, send him today. Please, let the day of Saotome-san's  
  
arrival be today.`  
  
And, as always, she received no answer, mortal or divine. Simply  
  
the serene silence that prevailed throughout the Tendou Dojo when no  
  
classes were present. When it was she and she alone, left to the motions  
  
of living once again.  
  
Tightening the red belt which hung at the waist of her gi, Akane  
  
Tendou began the first Kata of the Master's Uncial and started what she  
  
believed would be another long, uneventful day.  
  
She was wrong.  
  
--------------  
  
Nerima Ward, Tokyo, Japan.  
  
The place of his birth. A place he had not seen since a very  
  
young age, and one that seemed more than a lifetime ago. Even after  
  
twenty-three years on the road, the tall buildings mixed with rural  
  
suburb felt familiar; but were a far cry from the giant trees he had  
  
seen, and the bare wilderness that was Mainland China.  
  
His Elders had called him foolish. His 'sisters' had scoffed at  
  
him, treating him as if his honor had no meaning to them. All but one.  
  
And she refrained from speaking to him at all, though he could see the  
  
acceptance in her eyes.  
  
For him... Honor was all. The Art was all. And to do that which  
  
he had promised to do... that was all there was to it.  
  
Exiled, for a period of one year, said the tribal elders. As  
  
punishment for being an 'upstart male'. Even with his skills, and his  
  
condition, they afforded him little respect. Most of the elders believed  
  
him to be a menace, the young men looked up to him as if he were a god.  
  
He wanted neither the attention, nor the hostility, and had only  
  
remained for the training. He was sad to leave, but glad to go. They  
  
were a strong and prideful people, as was he- but he was not a docile  
  
male servant.  
  
He reflected on this, and more as he searched for the reason he  
  
had left his home in the first place. A promise he made to his father,  
  
the command spoken with the man's dying breath, mixed with a message of  
  
love to his mother, whom he hoped was still alive, but feared she was  
  
gone.  
  
And he found himself there, after getting directions from police  
  
and passers-by and several hours of searching, standing with the page  
  
from the telephone directory in one hand, the fingers of the other  
  
tracing the worn kanji on the wooden sign next to the main gate,  
  
proclaiming the house as home to the Tendou School of Anything Goes  
  
Martial Arts. He moved it to the side slightly, and it pivoted freely on  
  
the small metal peg that held it to the wall. The segment of wall  
  
underneath was less weathered than the wall surrounding it. Interest  
  
raised, the young man pulled on the sign gingerly, it coming free with  
  
surprising ease, having been designed to do so.  
  
With the sign in his grasp, Ranma Saotome entered the main gate,  
  
initiating a series of events that would change his life in ways he  
  
would have never imagined.  
  
--------------  
  
Akane's usual solitude was interrupted as she heard the main  
  
gate open on its rusty hinge, creaking loud enough to be heard in the  
  
enclosed dojo. She terminated the sixth set of the Master's Uncial with  
  
a punch that caused the air to snap angrily at her fist, wondering idly  
  
who it could be. No students were scheduled for hours, but perhaps one  
  
had something they wished to discuss? Or perhaps a new student entirely?  
  
She stepped out of stance, bowing towards the shrine before  
  
walking to the door of the dojo, grabbing a towel as she left the  
  
building and walked into her home. As she continued towards the foyer,  
  
she heard the knock she was expecting. "Yes, yes! Just a moment please!"  
  
She said, scrubbing much of the sweat out of her long hair, and running  
  
the towel over her face and hands. She tossed it into the living room,  
  
sliding that door closed as she stepped into the foyer, her bare feet  
  
making contact with the cold tile. She shivered slightly before sliding  
  
the front door open.  
  
--------------  
  
Ranma had been looking at the sign as he knocked. He heard a  
  
deep, but feminine, "Hai, Hai! Chottomatte kudasai!" and politely  
  
refrained from knocking again, trying to switch his mind's speech into  
  
Japanese, a practice he would have been forced to abandon once among the  
  
Niechiezu in Joketsuzoku, if not for Elder Koh Lon's mastery of the  
  
language, and daily encouragement mingled with quick witted banter,  
  
exchanged in formal and non-formal Japanese.  
  
A moment later, the door opened, revealing a rather beautiful  
  
woman in a rather worn gi, once white but turned yellow through use. The  
  
red belt that she wore about her waist served to pique his interest  
  
further, as she seemed only slightly younger than he. She wore her hair  
  
long, it hung slightly past the gentle curve of her hips, and was  
  
unadorned; it shimmered in the sunlight that could penetrate into the  
  
house from where they stood. Her eyes were a deep brown, and reflected  
  
her curiosity as she first opened the door, and that was shortly  
  
followed by anger as her eyes found the sign he held in his grasp.  
  
Akane was greeted with the sight of a young man she did not  
  
recognize. His eyes were a warm grey, but hard set, as was his jaw.  
  
Several faint scars were carelessly littered across his features, and  
  
his hair was long, and though hidden, she guessed it ended near the  
  
middle of his back. He was dressed in a deep maroon robe with black trim  
  
about the neck, cuffs, and the hem. It was tied close to his body by a  
  
black sash about his waist, and where the robe continued past the sash,  
  
large slits along each side allowed for free movement. His slacks were  
  
grey, and he wore simple, black Kung Fu shoes. The entirety of his  
  
clothing reminded her of the practitioners of Tai Chi Chuan seen often  
  
in parks and parking lots, save for his more serious expression and  
  
movements belied no such gentle art.  
  
And he held the sign for the Tendou School in his right hand.  
  
She bristled immediately. `A Dojo Destroyer?` she thought,  
  
imagining him to be one of the roaming Martial Artists who challenged an  
  
established School for their sign, and upon winning, would take the sign  
  
to dishonor the School.  
  
"May I help you?" she asked, trying to keep the hostility out of  
  
her voice. She might be wrong. She had been before. Of the ten people to  
  
offer her the School's sign, eight had been only that they had found it  
  
on the ground. She had fought for it twice, and won.  
  
"Yes. I'm Ren Lian Yexin," He replied without thinking, offering  
  
her his tribal name instead, and afterwards he cursed himself inwardly.  
  
`Idiot!` "... I was sent here." He finished after a moment.  
  
"For what reason?" she said, the anger in her tone rising. Her  
  
face began to betray her feelings to him.  
  
He thought on that, and then said, "I'm not entirely sure."  
  
"You aren't?" She asked him, plainly unconvinced. She stepped  
  
forward slightly.  
  
Ranma held his tongue for a second. Although it was slightly  
  
different, he recognized what she was doing. Another step would bring  
  
her into a stance similar to the most deceptive 'hidden' stances that  
  
were part of his father's 'Anything Goes' style. Or another step could  
  
bring her back to an open, unassuming posture. "No. I'm not." He stated,  
  
letting the small amount of anguish he still felt, the guilt and  
  
depression caused by the passing of his father, into his tone.  
  
She did not move. "Then why do you hold my School's sign? Are  
  
you here to challenge my honor, and try to take it from me?"  
  
"If I knew that I was here for your School's honor, this sign  
  
would be for my taking." He said calmly, his tone light and casual  
  
despite his words. She narrowed her eyes at him as he continued. "I am  
  
not, however, certain of anything at this point, and your aggression  
  
towards me is unbecoming."  
  
"Then what do you want? I have classes to teach soon." She spat,  
  
bitterly.  
  
She was disgusted with him, and he knew it; the anger and  
  
annoyance etched clearly into her features. She had every right to be,  
  
as rude as he was being. He sympathized, but kept his hands to his sides  
  
instead of clasped before him, as was his usual. She might think he had  
  
let his guard down and try to attack. He really did not want to hurt  
  
her. "I have been told the 'Anything Goes' style is practiced by only  
  
two families. The Tendou's and the Saotome's..."  
  
Akane bristled again. How could he know that? "How do you know  
  
that?" Surprise carried with her angry tone of voice as she asked.  
  
Ranma paused. He had had about enough of this Tendou. A small  
  
fabrication was in order. "I was told this by a dying man, by the name  
  
of Saotome. Are you denying this, Tendou-dono?"  
  
The honorific, in conjunction with the accusation, was akin to a  
  
slap in the face. That, added to the possibility that her Ranma could  
  
be... No, she dared not even think it! Her voice wavered, desperation  
  
and hope vying with her hatred of the man as she answered his barb.  
  
"No. I do not deny what you say. May I ask the name of the man who  
  
died?"  
  
Odd, Ranma thought. She has some amount of concern for us  
  
Saotome's, but why? The truth, he decided, was best now. "Saotome  
  
Genma."  
  
"Auntie's Husband...?" She whispered hoarsely, a desperate hope  
  
filling her voice and shining in her eyes. "Then what of Ranma-san,  
  
Saotome Ranma-san?!"  
  
"..." Ranma said nothing, absorbing her reaction with silence.  
  
`Shrugging off the death of my father like one does bad weather, and yet  
  
she asks of me with a lover's passion? If she doesn't know Mother's  
  
address, I want nothing further to do with this woman!` he thought  
  
vehemently, careful to keep his feelings from his face and from coloring  
  
his ki. "My instructor of the Anything Goes Style was the one to send  
  
me." He said, telling the truth, and then a lie. "I know nothing of this  
  
Ranma, save he is alive. We split company shortly after Genma's death.  
  
Do you know the location of the home of Mrs. Saotome? I need to inform  
  
her as well."  
  
Akane narrowed her eyes. "I do no favors to those who insult me.  
  
I shall tell her myself, without your aid."  
  
There it was, that hostility again. `She is like a switch; her  
  
emotions are either on or off. No middle ground at all.` "It is my duty  
  
to tell her, I cannot go home until I do so. Are you trying to keep me  
  
from my duty?" he offered in retort.  
  
She scoffed at him. "That is your problem, not mine. Good day."  
  
"Wait." he called, as she stepped back and began to close the  
  
shoji. She stopped, briefly, and he held up the sign. "I offer this  
  
then: Tell me the location of Saotome-sama's home, and I shall leave you  
  
your sign."  
  
"You would barter my honor?" She spat, glaring at him more so  
  
than before.  
  
The sign meant nothing to him. "A challenge of knowledge, then.  
  
You know that which I do not. I am defeated. Prove my defeat and you may  
  
have your sign, at my dishonor for disturbing your Wa." He said,  
  
straining to keep the smile from his face. `Can you refuse that?` He  
  
thought, bitterly.  
  
She thought on it. "Acceptable. On the condition that you,  
  
Yexin, nor any of your students, ever set foot here again, and that you  
  
not harm Saotome-san." She said, using the more familiar honorific to  
  
show her closeness to the woman in question, a small reminder of who was  
  
superior in that relation.  
  
"Agreed." he said, with no hesitation.  
  
"Stay there. I'll write it down for you. It is far from here,  
  
and is located in an old neighborhood." She said, shutting the shoji.  
  
She had no intention of opening it again in the next twenty minutes.  
  
Ranma knew, by her demeanor, that she would be as cruel as she  
  
possibly could without breaking etiquette. He settled in for a long  
  
wait, occupying his mind by looking over the house from where he stood.  
  
The exterior wall had obscured much of the house as he entered, and he  
  
hadn't the time to notice it while 'speaking' with the Tendou woman. It  
  
was a grand old house, of traditional Japanese design, and was fairly  
  
sizable. An ancestral home, he supposed, with the amount of land the  
  
wall encompassed. He guessed it to have two stories by the way the roof  
  
was shaped, and began inspecting the greenery around the front  
  
entrance. It was well kept, but lacked the flair that was evident in the  
  
work of someone who was passionate about gardening. `Probably has her  
  
students do the weeding for her...` he surmised.  
  
The time passed swiftly, and she returned to the doorway with a  
  
sheet of instructions written in fairly decent calligraphy. They  
  
exchanged items wordlessly, and afterwards she turned and shut the door  
  
with more force than necessary.  
  
Ranma growled softly as he walked away. `Damn uppity, self  
  
centered, prideful, arrogant bitch.`  
  
From behind the door, Akane thought roughly the same of him.  
  
`Low born, holier-than thou, contemptuous Chinese dog! I'm glad I took  
  
the time to call and warn Auntie Nodoka about him. She'll clean his  
  
clock! Too bad about Uncle Saotome, though; Auntie took it like she  
  
expected it or something... but... Ranma? Where is he? Does he not know  
  
I'm here, waiting for him?`  
  
The answer to that was, in more ways, only a few feet behind  
  
her. As far as she was concerned, however, she would never willingly  
  
speak to Ren Lian Yexin again.  
  
It might not have surprised her, then, that Ren Lian Yexin  
  
shared the sentiment.  
  
It was not to last.  
  
--------------  
  
Tendou-san, as it turned out, may have had no love lost for him,  
  
but wrote extremely precise directions; using obvious landmarks as a  
  
guide. He ignored the disdainful tone the directions were written in  
  
because of that. He had to ask for assistance only once, and then only  
  
because a store display had been changed from the one described.  
  
After twenty minutes or so, Ranma found a small, traditional  
  
style house surrounded by a low half-wall. On the wall near the gate  
  
there was a bronze plaque inscribed 'Saotome Nodoka'. Beyond the wall  
  
was a modest yard that, like the house, was well maintained and  
  
obviously cared for. He opened the gate and stepped through, turning to  
  
shut it again; as he did so, he heard a door open and footsteps. He  
  
turned around.  
  
Immediately before him there stood a regal woman of latter  
  
years. She was still very beautiful, and he could see the resemblance  
  
between her and his features. She was dressed in a three-layer kimono,  
  
the outermost layer a pristine white with a faint touch of pink in  
  
random places- cherry blossoms, he realized -, with an old katana held  
  
by the scabbard in her right hand, the face of the blade down. She was  
  
telling him something with the sword, and he recognized it: I am willing  
  
to talk, but also willing to shed blood. A general 'tread carefully'. He  
  
bowed, deeper than necessary; respectful for her warning and ashamed for  
  
the blow he was about to deal her emotionally.  
  
"You are the one who accosted my niece, are you not?" she stated  
  
more than asked, her tone of voice belying nothing. Something struck him  
  
as odd, and after a moment he realized he could not sense her ki; where  
  
he should have 'seen' it, there was... absence, a void. Her tongue may  
  
as well be silk wrapped steel, for if she did not wish him to know her  
  
true intent, he would not know it.  
  
`No wonder father married her! Best to be cautious, but how to  
  
salvage the impression she has of me? Discredit the person she knows  
  
or... No, better to allow the dishonor to continue for a short while.`  
  
He bowed again, lower. "My apologies. It was not my intention to  
  
exchange words with Tendou-dono, as I do not know my business with the  
  
Tendou clan, and probably never shall; my only intention was that I find  
  
you, and it would seem I have chosen an improper way to do this. Again,  
  
my apologies."  
  
She flipped the blade face upwards in a deft motion that showed  
  
her skill, and brought her left hand across her front, taking hold of  
  
her right wrist in the proper way to hold a blade when one was  
  
completely relaxed, and in no need to draw it. "Because you admit your  
  
fault, and of your choice of words regarding Miss Tendou, I believe you.  
  
Miss Tendou has had a quick temper since her birth, and doubly so when  
  
it comes to anything involving men. She has forewarned me of your  
  
arrival, and said... you bring news of my husband's death?"  
  
Again, though stated as a question, her tone felt as if she were  
  
simply stating fact. He knelt before her, bowed at the waist, and held  
  
his bow while speaking. "It is an unfortunate duty of mine to tell you  
  
of the death of Saotome Genma. After cursing his son at Jusenkyou, 'The  
  
Valley of Tears', and a brief altercation afterwards, Saotome Genma was  
  
knocked into a brittle bamboo pole, held fast in the center of one of  
  
the many springs. It..." He paused for a brief moment, collecting  
  
himself before continuing. "It pierced his abdomen, and penetrated his  
  
heart. We were far from any medical help, and he was far beyond what  
  
little help there was. After instructing me to both visit the Tendou's  
  
and my mother, he died, fourteenth of May, year one thousand, nine  
  
hundred and ninety one. "*  
  
Silence fell over both of them as he finished, his forehead  
  
against the back of his hands, pressed to the earth.  
  
A moment later he heard a clatter and a muffled thump, but dared  
  
not look up until a light touch settled on his shoulder. He met the tear  
  
filled gaze of his mother, her lips trembling, as was her entire being.  
  
"A-are you...? But Akane said...!"  
  
He smiled faintly. "The name I gave Miss Tendou was an accident;  
  
it is the name I have used for the past twelve years. My birth name  
  
is... Saotome Ranma."  
  
She raised her hand and muffled a gasping sob, fighting to  
  
breathe and cry at the same time. "My son?" she asked in a tear filled  
  
voice, wonder, sadness and amazement rolled into those two small words,  
  
with a lot of love thrown in between. The hand she had touched his  
  
shoulder with floundered, waiving about as if wanting desperately to  
  
touch him again, but afraid to do so.  
  
Ranma did the only thing he could do. He swept the beleaguered  
  
woman into a tight embrace, and whispered to her the words she had so  
  
longed to hear.  
  
"I have returned home, mother... And I am so, so very sorry."  
  
The two Saotome's cried openly together, on the steps to  
  
Nodoka's home, uncaring for a moment of what the world might think on  
  
that bright, Sunday afternoon; lost as they were in grief, both recent  
  
and remembered, and in the joy of reunion.  
  
--------------  
  
He did not know how long they had stayed there, in each other's  
  
arms, comforting one another. But at one point they pulled apart, and in  
  
doing so felt the emotions twice fold. She retrieved the sword from  
  
where it had fallen from her nerveless grasp, and politely invited him  
  
in for tea. Ranma had no intention of refusing.  
  
Hours past as she told him of her life before he and his father  
  
had left on that eventful trip, and also of the life she scraped  
  
together for herself after they had gone. Of neighbors, friends, and  
  
also of Tendou Soun and his wife, Kimiko. Of their young daughters, the  
  
times they spent on outings, and friendly visits. Of Kimiko's sudden and  
  
unexplainable illness, and the devastation her death brought to her  
  
family. Of the girls growing up without their mother, and with a now  
  
weak willed father. Of Soun's strange illness, and his eventual death,  
  
so much like his wife's. Of how the girls went on, and made lives for  
  
themselves. And of how she went on.  
  
And Ranma sat through all of it, drinking his tea, laughing at  
  
jokes, murmuring pleasant nothings during the sad tales, and smiling  
  
throughout the rest. This was what he was missing in his life. This was  
  
who he had wanted to meet, this strong, sad, vibrant woman who lent him  
  
so much of her strength and will to survive, even though he could barely  
  
remember her. But he remembered her smile. And her laugh, the way it  
  
crinkled her eyes and the way she shook her head while doing it... And  
  
that both amazed and comforted him, the mother he had thought all but  
  
forgotten still lived within his heart, and in the world.  
  
He wiped away a tear, and she paused in mid sentence about Mrs.  
  
Takuma's spiced apple pie. "What is it, dear?"  
  
"Everything. You, the stories..." At that her face fell  
  
slightly, worried he was being driven to boredom, but his next words  
  
reassured her, "I've waited my whole life for this. I'm just... I'm just  
  
so glad you're alive, and that I can be here and hear about you." He  
  
finished, smiling.  
  
"Oh, posh!" She said, playfully slapping his knee. "I'm just an  
  
old maid. A forty five year old housewife with no husband to dirty the  
  
house..." she trailed off, looking down at the low table they both sat  
  
at, in the main room of her small home. She retrieved her tea and took a  
  
sip, covering for her lapse.  
  
"Are you alright, mother?" Ranma asked, concern coloring his  
  
words. At this she set her cup back down, and met his gaze with sad  
  
eyes.  
  
"I don't know, my son. When... Thirteen years ago, Soun received  
  
a message from your father." she paused, and he gave her a blank  
  
expression, but voiced an affirmative for her to continue. "A simple  
  
postcard, from China. Genma said... That he would be returning from the  
  
mainland in a few days. Soun, the poor dear, didn't contact me, assuming  
  
I had received word from my husband well before he himself had. But, a  
  
few weeks after the message came, he called, and asked if you both had  
  
returned home. I went to see him at once, and read the message myself,  
  
several times. So we waited, for you both to come home. And after a year  
  
had passed, with no further word from either of you, I..." she stopped,  
  
taking a deep breath to reassure herself. "Soun never gave up hope that  
  
you were both alive, never once doubted that someday, you would return.  
  
But, I'm afraid I couldn't share the same opinion. So, when another year  
  
had come and gone, I grieved for you in private.  
  
"And now, you're home, but my husband is not with you. I feel as  
  
if dreaming, but I know this is real. I'm so glad to have you with me,  
  
even as I feel saddened by your news of Genma's... I just don't know  
  
what I should feel." she finished, forcing herself to smile for him, as  
  
she retrieved her cup and took another long drink of the soothing, hot  
  
green tea.  
  
"I vaguely remember the day father sent that card, in a dirty,  
  
squalid town whose name memory has forgotten. I asked him, 'to whom do  
  
you send such a thing?' He only smiled that salacious grin, offering a  
  
whimsical 'You'll meet them soon enough.' That was, I believe, a week  
  
before I was cursed."  
  
"There, now... you've said that twice. What is it you mean by  
  
'cursed?'" She asked, growing concerned. "Not some physical malady is  
  
it?"  
  
Ranma hesitated. He knew from experience that the human mind  
  
could only take in so much at one time. His mother, though strong she  
  
was, was ill prepared to grasp the true nature of his curse at the  
  
moment. Instead, he chose to defer. "Malady? No. But it is a physical...  
  
difficulty. I would explain more, but..." He heaved a large sigh,  
  
exhaustion mixed with bitterness and old resentment, and no few regrets.  
  
"It is long, involved, and very, very complicated. To explain now would  
  
be to invite madness, as we are already frayed emotionally. I will tell  
  
you, be sure of that, when the time comes. Comfort yourself in the  
  
knowledge that it is nothing truly bad, just... challenging." He  
  
shrugged, and offered a bit of a smile. "I've learned to live with it."  
  
"I... see."  
  
"Let us say, it has given me a different perspective on life."  
  
Nodoka suddenly narrowed her eyes. "You are not an eunuch, are  
  
you?"  
  
Ranma blinked, then chuckled. "No, no. That is most defiantly  
  
not the problem. Rather the contrary, in fact -This curse changed into a  
  
slight blessing in the form of female attentions, at least insofar as  
  
within the place I called home. Had many, many girls considering me as a  
  
potential husband, and quite a few more than that just looking for a  
  
single night alone. But I won't go into much detail; such things are  
  
crude to speak of at the best of times."  
  
"My, unabashed, aren't we?" she said, smiling. But she also  
  
shook her head. "Unabashed, but not rude. Genma did not teach you these  
  
things, but whomever did, I must say, has done a fine job."  
  
"It was said to me, once, by my mentor, that father served as  
  
the anvil, using the Art as his hammer to shape me. But father, even at  
  
his best, was an uncouth lout, cruder than the oil suspended in a  
  
quenching tank. No, though father was responsible for forging within me  
  
a soul of steel, my mentor honed my edge on her vast knowledge and  
  
experience, turning me into a true weapon. Something father could never  
  
have done."  
  
"I had doubts. Many, many doubts. But he was so afraid you would  
  
be spoiled if he remained here, with me to 'coddle' you-"  
  
Ranma broke in, grimacing. "Coddling meaning 'Preventing him  
  
from using inhumane practices in the name of advancing his son and heir  
  
in the principles of the Art'."  
  
It was Nodoka's turn to grimace. "As I said, I had my doubts on  
  
letting him go. Genma was a vile, cowardly, sneaky, and fiendishly  
  
seductive young man, if you could believe such a thing to be true. The  
  
only reason he was able to marry me, truth be told." She smiled grimly,  
  
a hint of wry humor showing. "Youth and stupidity go hand in hand, I'm  
  
afraid. As does gullibility and lust. Quite a handsome young man, your  
  
father was, with his fighter's physique. He seduced me, of that you can  
  
be certain, and tried to marry into money. My father would have none of  
  
it, cutting me off from the finances while I was blinded by that young  
  
snake's lies. And then, I was with child. Barely seventeen, and with  
  
child. So scandalous, that was back then! Genma had to marry me or be  
  
forced to end his career in the Art. And so he did. And so he did."  
  
He sat, absorbing this information about his father silently.  
  
After a moment, his mother continued. "Everyone said I was too good for  
  
the likes of him. Wasted on him, really. And, after a year of raising  
  
you and having an empty home, and when it wasn't empty, a home full of  
  
bitter arguments and reeking of Sake`, that I began to believe them. And  
  
began to resent the man I thought I had loved. Regret and anger, brewed  
  
for three long, bitter years, and when he proposed to take you away from  
  
me, to train in the ways of a 'proper martial artist', I had my doubts.  
  
Oh, I had my doubts. But I also saw it as a chance of escape. And so I  
  
let him go, taking my precious son from me, just so I could get away  
  
from the vile person I had foolishly opened myself to."  
  
Ranma began to say something, but she waived him down. "No, you  
  
should know this. Take this as words from the heavens to be writ on your  
  
very soul: For every decision there is always more than one factor  
  
behind the reasoning. And always more options than seem apparent. After  
  
he left with you, I discovered many things I could have, should have!,  
  
done instead. Too late. And, though I would give anything to have those  
  
twenty-four years of your life that I missed back, to be with you as I  
  
should have been, I know that is impossible. But, looking at you, as you  
  
are, and talking with you, I know that those years without you have not  
  
been a total waste. You have grown to be a wise, kind man; and I am no  
  
longer as foolish as I was. Perhaps we can learn from each other."  
  
Ranma nodded, but said nothing. There was nothing to say.  
  
Nodoka clapped her hands together, punctuating the sound with  
  
her own explosive 'Well!'. "It is getting quite late. You should take a  
  
bath before turning in, So... if you would kindly follow?"  
  
He did, saying nothing for the rest of the time he was in her  
  
company, and for good reason. He had finally pierced a small portion of  
  
her defenses, and had glimpsed some of the woman's ki. What he had seen,  
  
in that briefest of glimpses, had frightened him. Frightened, and  
  
intrigued. And though he did not know the truth behind it, he still  
  
loved her, as only a son can love his mother, and she him as only a  
  
mother loved a son. For that he had seen as well.  
  
And so it came, as darkness sank deeper into the world, after he  
  
had bathed and bedded, hearing her do these things also, he heard  
  
another sound, just before he was to drift off to sleep. A sound he had  
  
heard many times, though, perhaps, not as anguished as this. Not as  
  
deep, not as bitter, not as resentful. And certainly not as full of  
  
self-hatred and -loathing.  
  
So he found himself that evening in his mother's modest bedroom,  
  
holding her close under the sheets, comforting her as best he could,  
  
just as they both had done earlier that Sunday afternoon, the only  
  
difference being their clothing, and the lack of light to see each  
  
other.  
  
And that lack of light saved Nodoka from his curse. For as the  
  
bitter tears soaked deep into his nightclothes, he changed into she; and  
  
neither the weeping woman, nor the one soothing, noticed.  
  
--------------  
  
Ranma awoke to the sight of an angel. His mother lay by his  
  
side, supporting herself on an elbow while she gazed down upon him with  
  
an odd expression, reeking of wry humor. "Good morning, my son."  
  
He chose not to dwell on it. If there was something that needed  
  
to be said, he was quite sure she would say it. "Morning mother."  
  
Something about the words bothered him.  
  
She chuckled as she watched him stretch luxuriously, like a  
  
panther awaking after a nice, long nap, though she knew the person  
  
before her had as little true sleep as she. "So scandalous, the  
  
neighbors would say, if they knew. 'Her long lost son, after only  
  
returning for one day, and she stays with him through the night in her  
  
own bed!'" She chuckled again, shaking her head softly. "Even worse,  
  
when it turns out her son is truly a woman!"  
  
Ranma blinked, at that, and quickly checked as his mother said,  
  
"Shocking!"  
  
He, She rather now it was confirmed, chuckled nervously. "Heh  
  
heh heh... About that..."  
  
"...Curse?" She finished for him, looking unconcerned.  
  
"Yes. You can read ki, can't you." He stated, knowing now for  
  
certain.  
  
She smiled again, serenely. "I wasn't idle all those years, you  
  
know. Only good thing about Genma, really -he was always passionate  
  
about the Art, if little else. Some of that passion rubbed off on me. I  
  
decided early on that if he was going to teach you the physical aspects  
  
of the Art, I would endeavor to learn the spiritual, and perhaps learn  
  
enough by the time you returned to teach you something of value." She  
  
shook her head again, albeit sadly. "Sometimes, I do wonder what on  
  
earth I was thinking. You can, as well, can't you."  
  
The younger woman nodded. "I can, though it is still a technique  
  
I'm adapting to my own use, and finding other uses for it."  
  
She nodded, understanding. "A word of wisdom, and advice: Be  
  
careful. There are some things not meant to be seen." She shuddered  
  
slightly, as if reliving some deep seated terror. "Yes, some things are  
  
best left in the dark."  
  
Ranma wondered at that cryptic phrase, but set it aside. All  
  
things come in time.  
  
"Well then!" Nodoka said happily, changing the subject. "How  
  
about breakfast, over which you can explain the nature of this 'curse'  
  
of yours."  
  
"Fair enough..." Ranma said, rising.  
  
--------------  
  
A traditional Japanese breakfast, and a delicious one as well.  
  
Rice, Miso, and a charbroiled fish. Also green tea, and using the hot  
  
water and a few glasses of cold, demonstrated his curse until Nodoka was  
  
satisfied.  
  
"And you are certain Genma did this on purpose?" Nodoka asked,  
  
setting down her cup of tea.  
  
A rather damp Ranma-chan stopped in her vigorous rubbing of the  
  
towel on her hair. "Oh yes. Quiet sure. He said a few words to the guide  
  
in Chinese, and the poor man led us to a very particular spring. Took us  
  
a few minutes of walking to get there. Once we did, he purposely dunked  
  
me. As in, grabbed my throat and chucked me into the water." She  
  
scowled, a fierce expression that did not suit her pretty face. "And  
  
after I found out what happened..." She trailed off.  
  
Nodoka did not snort in derision, or smile serenely. She simply  
  
sat, expressionless, for a moment. Then, as if coming to a difficult  
  
decision, she spoke. "I do not blame you, Ranma. Had I been in your  
  
place, suffering a change of gender, I would have done much the same. I  
  
do not fault you for retribution; you didn't try to kill him. It was  
  
just a blind twist of fate, nothing more." She drank deeply from her  
  
cup, and poured herself more, scowling. "The old dog was asking for it  
  
anyway."  
  
And that was all that was said, on the death of Saotome Genma.  
  
Nothing else was needed by either of them.  
  
"I must say, though, that I might know the reason behind your  
  
curse. Well, not behind the curse, so much as the reason your father  
  
placed it upon you."  
  
Ranma draped the towel over her shoulders, sipping her own tea.  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"Yes. Your father was a weasel, of this you know." Ranma offered  
  
her a 'granted' gesture, and she continued, "...but even a weasel plans  
  
ahead. As it would, Genma, long before he met me, had trained under a  
  
troll of a man named Happosai..."  
  
At that name, Ranma jumped to her feet, snarling and raking the  
  
air with clawed fingers like the human panther she was. "He WHAT?!?"  
  
Nodoka was taken aback. "What's wrong, Ranma?"  
  
"Happosai." The name was a curse more than anything. "That evil  
  
little man stole many things of great power and value from the tribe in  
  
years long past, and has them still, I am sure." Seeing her lack of  
  
understanding, he elaborated. "The person who took me in after father's  
  
death, my mentor, was the village elder of the Niechiezu, last of the  
  
Amazon peoples."  
  
"Amazons?" She asked, cocking her head to one side. "You mean  
  
like those mythical women warriors of Greek legend?"  
  
"Er, Yes and no... Yes as in their society is the reverse of  
  
normal, where women enjoy supremacy over men;" She made a sound, which  
  
related her understanding, and Ranma continued. "As for the Mesopotamian  
  
Ancestry thing... I'm not a historian, and I never asked. All I know is  
  
they were there, and they were generous enough to let me stay with them  
  
after..." She trailed off for a moment, looking away briefly before  
  
finishing. "They live by a different set of rules than the communists.  
  
Many of which dealt with marriage. By their law, any male visitor who  
  
defeats a local girl in fair combat is married to her, more or less."  
  
"Fascinating."  
  
"Yes, but to the point, they have many ancient artifacts of vast  
  
spiritual power, kept safe by the tribe, but... Happosai snuck into our  
  
village at one point, long ago, and stole a good portion of them. The  
  
tribe has standing orders for his capture and punishment."  
  
"Which he deserves, I'm sure. And to my point, as your father  
  
was instructed by him, so was another man. A rather wealthy one, in  
  
fact. His name was Tendou Soun."  
  
"The Tendou girl's father?" he asked, recalling the conversation  
  
they had last night.  
  
"Just so. However, your father had no knowledge of Soun, or that  
  
he had had daughters, before he left with you."  
  
"And this pertains to my curse, how?"  
  
She gave her a wan smile. "Your father arranged for you a  
  
marriage into the Tendou family."  
  
For a moment the young girl looked lost, and then thoroughly  
  
disgusted. "You think he would have...?"  
  
"Forced you into a marriage with a son of the Tendou family? I  
  
certainly wouldn't put it past him."  
  
"But I'm a guy!" At her mother's bemused look, she rallied  
  
weakly, "Current appearances non-withstanding."  
  
"I'm sure you could have made those claims, however... Soun  
  
trusted your father implicitly. From what Soun told me, Genma came up  
  
with the plan to entrap a drunken Happosai in a cave, seal him inside of  
  
a barrel of Christian holy water covered in wards, dynamite the  
  
entrance, and then placed a large statue of the Buddha on top of it  
  
all."  
  
Ranma considered that, briefly. "Nah. Couldn't have held the old  
  
demon much longer than thirty years or so." She retook her place at the  
  
table.  
  
Nodoka shrugged, "Still, it rid the two men of his presence for  
  
the rest of their lives, and your father gained Soun's gratitude and a  
  
pledge of marriage for their children. Not to mention the poor fool  
  
would have believed your father's lies long before accepting the truth  
  
from any other source."  
  
Another spark of memory, the way Tendou Akane had asked of him.  
  
"And she knows about it." She stated firmly.  
  
Her mother nodded. "Akane, yes. All three of them have known,  
  
for quite a while. It would seem Soun wrote out an actual contract for  
  
it, before he died. I've never seen it, though. Probably should take a  
  
look at it, now... Considering."  
  
Ranma grimaced. "Last thing I want at this point in my life is  
  
to be married to some egotistical, arrogant little..." He stopped.  
  
"Sorry. I haven't the highest opinion of Tendou-san, yet."  
  
Nodoka simply looked bemused. "It's alright. Akane has never  
  
been very polite. She's very brash, you know. Almost boyish, for a woman  
  
her age."  
  
"The term is 'Butch', mother." She said mildly, drawing a smile  
  
from the older woman.  
  
"It is, at that. We should pay her a visit, this afternoon,  
  
preferably."  
  
Ranma dipped her fingers into her teacup, changing again. He was  
  
not looking very pleased with the news. "That might be difficult for  
  
me." He said, after a moment. "She banned me from the Tendou home."  
  
An eyebrow rose. "Banned you? Or some Chinese fellow?"  
  
"Mere technicalities, I assure you." He muttered. "I don't  
  
believe I could be civil to her at this time anyway. She almost kept me  
  
from you."  
  
A dark look passed over Nodoka's eyes, one which bode ill for  
  
the Tendou girl. "Yes. She almost did, at that." The moment passed, and  
  
she was again her normal self. "But, I think you would have tried to  
  
find me another way."  
  
"I had your address from a telephone directory." He admitted,  
  
shrugging. "But decided on the Tendou Dojo first, it seeming closer to  
  
the train station than your address, according to the rather unhelpful  
  
ward map on the interior cover. It was very difficult to even find that  
  
ancient place." He drank of his tea before continuing. "Very  
  
troublesome, you Japanese and your convoluted streets. Even Beijing  
  
isn't that bad."  
  
She chuckled, her eyes resting on him fondly. "We've had so  
  
little time together..."  
  
"What is on your mind?" Ha asked, sensing her underlying  
  
worries.  
  
"The engagement agreement. I realize it must be honored or  
  
absolved in some way, but..." She hesitated.  
  
"...Just not right now. It's too soon." He finished for her,  
  
summing up her feelings. "I feel the same, on both accounts." He scowled  
  
darkly. "My father's agreement, as you said, should be met or dismissed  
  
as honorably as possible. But if it cannot be dismissed..." He trailed  
  
off, an almost fearful look coming upon him, "It's too soon, without  
  
knowing the exact terms of the agreement."  
  
"Yes." She said simply. Silence stretched between them for a  
  
moment, each thinking of the future, and of the past.  
  
"I need a mother now, more than a wife." Ranma said finally,  
  
nodding to himself. "She's waited this long. What are another few days?  
  
Weeks? Months in the face of so much time already lost?"  
  
Nodoka nodded. "Just so, my son. Just so. The only problem I can  
  
foresee is if she were to decide to drop in unannounced. Akane considers  
  
me family, and will probably make a social call within the next few days  
  
to check up on me, due to that 'dangerous Chinese stranger'."  
  
Ranma lapsed into silence as his mother drank from her tea. A  
  
plan slowly began forming, one which could offer him the ability to stay  
  
with his mother and the security required to dodge the Tendou woman's  
  
paranoia. "Tell me, mother... have you any nieces?"  
  
"Two, actually... why?"  
  
Ranma quickly outlined his plan. He, as Ren Lian Yexin, would  
  
leave her house that afternoon, heading back towards the station he used  
  
to arrive in Nerima, taking a train to the next ward, only to change  
  
gender and clothing in a restroom and return under the guise of a niece  
  
sent by a worried sister or in-law to look after the poor woman who,  
  
after hearing the news of her husband's death and her only child's  
  
whereabouts unknown, would understandably be a miserable wreak. He would  
  
then spend the majority of his time in his mother's house as a woman,  
  
helping the suddenly widowed Nodoka through her time of 'grief'.  
  
"Generally, I like it." Nodoka said after putting the plan  
  
through its paces in her own mind. "I have a niece, well, a fist cousin  
  
once removed rather, just a bit younger than you, on my mother's side  
  
who's mother swears she bears a close resemblance to me at that age -as  
  
does your female side. Her name is Akibarae Akiho." She smiled wryly,  
  
"And as luck would have it, she's also a bit of a tomboy, and proficient  
  
in Jeet Kun Dou, among other things."  
  
Ranma blinked. "Any reason why?"  
  
"Partly because she was a member of an all women's biker gang,  
  
co-leader I should say. Secondly she has a job with a software firm as a  
  
model actor for female fighting game characters." She explained.  
  
"I see."  
  
"You'll need to cut your hair back, though. I'm sure Akane has  
  
seen a few recent photos of her. She competes in tournaments quite  
  
frequently, and wins often enough to have a certain... fan-following,  
  
shall we say?"  
  
Ranma nodded. "Just one thing about that, though..." He said,  
  
reaching back and untwining a slender object from his hair. His hair  
  
immediately began growing, getting visibly longer in the span of a few  
  
seconds. He threaded the slender object back into his hair, near his  
  
ear, the sudden growth stopping immediately.  
  
"What in the world...?" Nodoka exclaimed, reaching out and  
  
taking his hair in her hands. "How...?"  
  
"Another curse." He said simply.  
  
"You seem to have an affinity for acquiring them." She said  
  
wryly.  
  
"Tell me about it." He groused. "... I stole some soup from this  
  
guy in China, and it turned out to be some kind of medieval Rogaine for  
  
Men. Basically, if I don't have the Dragon's Whisker in my hair, it will  
  
continue to grow until I can't grow anymore, leaving me bald."  
  
"Oh, my! How dreadful!"  
  
"Indeed. Thankfully, it doesn't affect me while I'm female, so I  
  
guess cutting my hair as a girl would be fine. I can pocket the whisker  
  
and replace it afterwards." He gave it a moment of thought before  
  
shrugging. "I kept it long because that was the style in the tribe.  
  
Something shorter might be nice, maybe go back to my old pig-tail..."  
  
"After our duplicity, that is." She amended for him, and he  
  
nodded.  
  
"I'll need to borrow something to wear. I'm afraid I haven't  
  
much clothing on me at the moment."  
  
"Well then, Let's take a look in my wardrobe, and se if we can't  
  
find something that will fit your feminine side." She said with a smile  
  
as she rose.  
  
Ranma followed, rolling his eyes, stopping once upstairs to  
  
splash himself with a bit of cold water before joining Nodoka in her  
  
room.  
  
His mother, as it turned out, had a very nice selection of  
  
Kimonos, which took most of the interior of the large closet, due to the  
  
special hangers needed to properly store them. She had a few other  
  
things as well, however: A pair of business suits were hanging on a hook  
  
near the back, protected by garment bags, one black, and one brown. She  
  
also had several nice blouses (Probably to go with the business suits,  
  
Ranma reasoned), and some skirts which matched nicely with the blazers.  
  
Also were two full length dresses: one formal gown, back with white  
  
trim, and a more casual red with a rose pattern. She also had a yellow  
  
sundress. At that last, Ranma cocked an eyebrow at her mother.  
  
"What? The sundress? I look good in it, I'll have you know." She  
  
said mock-indignantly, balled fists on resting on her hips. She held it  
  
for a moment before dissolving in a giggle. "Really, though, I haven't  
  
worn it in years."  
  
"That's a shame. You probably would." She said, thoughtfully.  
  
"Oh, quite flattering an old woman." Nodoka said smartly,  
  
beginning to browse through the available selections, "I'd look silly in  
  
a sundress at my age. And don't get me started on bathing suits!" She  
  
finished, but for all the cheer in her tone there was an odd  
  
undercurrent of sadness. "In any event, I've always loved Kimonos. I was  
  
brought up traditionally, you know. I dare say I hated them when I was  
  
young, but they're just so... elegant, I suppose."  
  
"'Elegant'," Ranma said, inspecting the items Nodoka was placing  
  
aside for her, "...is an understatement."  
  
After exiting to her own room and trying on a few selections,  
  
they decided on an off-white blouse and black skirt which matched well  
  
with each other, and allowed good freedom of movement. Nodoka was  
  
concerned with under apparel, but Ranma surprised her by pulling a pair  
  
of panties seemingly out of thin air. "Sometimes it's just too  
  
bothersome to switch back into a guy, like during rainstorms and such,  
  
so I keep a few pairs on my person." She explained, "And then, sometimes  
  
my female form serves as a disguise. Best to be prepared, you know?"  
  
In the end, the only thing Ranma lacked for his disguise was a  
  
bra. "I'll be fine." She said, inspecting her reflection. "You can go  
  
shopping for your 'niece' later, you know."  
  
"Oh, yes! All this time, spent preparing for you, and now you're  
  
here...." She gave a little shiver as her maternal instinct joined the  
  
shopaholic in all women, "Ouuooo, so exciting!"  
  
The bright gleam in her eyes frightened Ranma a little. "Yes,  
  
well. Later, alright?"  
  
"Oh, you're no fun at all, Ranma. Oh, I found this while you were  
  
changing. Here..." Nodoka handed her a small photograph. "That's Akiho,  
  
from a year ago. I believe she still keeps her hair like that."  
  
Ranma eyed the photo critically. "You're right, she does look  
  
like you." She checked the mirror, and then the photo again. "And me,  
  
too. This will work."  
  
"Well, it would if you get going already. Oh, yes..." Nodoka  
  
turned, and opened a drawer on her nightstand, withdrawing some money.  
  
"Here's six thousand yen. There's a very nice hair salon in Ota ward  
  
station which should do nicely. And if you need it, they give makeup  
  
tips as well."  
  
Ranma nodded. While makeup wasn't an unknown accommodation in  
  
Joketsuzoku, it was rare, and he had little experience with it himself.  
  
But once in Japan, he had noticed almost every woman he had seen was  
  
wearing the substance. And some of them weren't wearing it well. "THAT  
  
will prove invaluable. I have no idea how to wear cosmetics."  
  
"And you claim to have used your female side as a disguise."  
  
Nodoka chided jokingly.  
  
"I'm sorry," she replied mock-indignantly, "Makeup is the last  
  
thing a young Chinese waif like me thinks about when heading out on the  
  
town. Successfully removing the manure stains from my slacks is an  
  
accomplishment, let alone seeming presentable."  
  
"Then again, with your bust, you needn't appear in flowing gowns  
  
to attract attention, you only have to stick out your chest." She  
  
replied.  
  
"Yep, that's me, pride of the village." Ranma muttered, no  
  
longer amused. "Damn things scream 'rape me' more than anything else."  
  
Nodoka accepted this without comment. "Be careful on the train,  
  
in your female form -usually they go for younger women, perverts as they  
  
are, but there are some men who delight in fondling a woman's ass or  
  
breast in a crowded train compartment. The police do not take kindly to  
  
any women who return violence for such indecent behavior."  
  
"Delightful. Just when I was thinking Japan wasn't that bad  
  
after all. At least in China you can punish the mangy curs."  
  
"It shouldn't happen, but... Best to warn you, in any event."  
  
Ranma grumbled, and returned to his male form and dress, placing  
  
the extra clothing into a large shopping bag. As they returned  
  
downstairs, he did something that made Nodoka's eyes cross and water,  
  
and then bag was gone. "What...?"  
  
"Hidden weapons technique, comes in handy for carrying things  
  
without carrying them. A friend taught me how to do it." He briefly  
  
explained.  
  
"How does this technique work?"  
  
He shrugged. "Better to ask, 'how does ki work?' There is no  
  
answer, only that it does. If you believe in it."  
  
She sighed, knowing full well what he meant. "You'll have to  
  
teach me, sometime." She slid the door open for him, and he stepped  
  
through, turning back to her.  
  
"Then, I'll be going."  
  
"Yes. Return home safely."  
  
"I will." He said, and then left.  
  
Retracing his way back to the train station was not as difficult  
  
as finding his way to his mother's home, yet he knew it would be a while  
  
yet before he could make the journey without directions. He spent the  
  
ride to Ota in pleasant remembrance of his conversations with his  
  
mother, and thinking how lucky indeed she was still alive, and such a  
  
wonderful person. The darkness which colored her ki was still troubling  
  
him, albeit only slightly; there would be time and enough to find out  
  
what it was. An idea occurred to him as the train began to slow on  
  
approach to the station: he ought to send word to elder Koh Lon to send  
  
his things to his mother's address... And maybe she would know something  
  
of darkened ki. If his mother did not breech the topic by the time the  
  
reply from china came, he would have an answer either way. So it was  
  
that he stopped by a souvenir stand and purchased enough materials to  
  
compose a letter, and promptly sent it towards China. It would get there  
  
soon enough.  
  
A quick splash at a drinking fountain brought the desired  
  
change, and he quickly retrieved and dressed in the feminine clothing in  
  
the ladies restroom. Afterwards, he placed his clothes in the bag and  
  
folded it back into nothing.  
  
The young miss behind the counter of the station's beauty parlor  
  
was surprised at the young beauty that walked in without an appointment,  
  
requesting not only a trim and a perm for her luxurious dark copper  
  
hair, but a make-over as well. Taking the task, she and three assistants  
  
cut, shaped, and painted their way to perfection. After an hour, Ranma  
  
walked out of the salon in a daze -the stylists having rendered her  
  
stunning to even herself. The discount they gave her for simply being so  
  
beautiful came as a blow, too; nearly 40% off the original price,  
  
leaving her with a fair bit of cash left over.  
  
What happened next was shocking, as well, but for a different reason.  
  
"Behold! What ere beauty lye yonder?! Hark, man, delay me not  
  
and quicken thy steps to the goddess!" came a bold shout from half-way  
  
across the station. It served to not only alert the milling crowd to  
  
move aside or be trampled in the man's haste to meet with 'divinity',  
  
but also managed to snap Ranma from her self-imposed stupor.  
  
The sight that greeted her upon returning to her senses was  
  
mildly amusing. A man, dressed in a gi and hakuma, bokuto thrust skyward  
  
before his advance, was running to her as an Olympian to the finish  
  
line. Seeing he was noticed seemed to only encourage him further, as he  
  
slid upon his wooden geta to a perfect halt, kneeling before her. No  
  
mean feat, that.  
  
As she stared at the man, who was roguishly handsome, he began a  
  
monologue. "Alas, is it an Angel sent before me, to remove me from the  
  
living and guide my poor soul to the heavens? Or a Goddess, descended to  
  
outshine the most beautiful mortal, and remind us what for true beauty  
  
be? Oh, for only had I the answer, but instead I beg, if only for a  
  
moment, look upon my unworthy self and grant Kuno Tatewaki, single, age  
  
twenty nine and three quarters, the boon of your blessed name!"  
  
It took Ranma a moment to fully translate what the man, looking  
  
at her as a devoted servant, was truly saying; his language being an  
  
archaic form of Japanese. Once she had it, though, she could barely  
  
stifle the laugh that threatened to burst forth. Thankfully, however,  
  
she did. "Rise, Samurai. 'Tis not the proper place for a man of your  
  
station to be kneeling on the earth."  
  
"Alas, I would be honored to stay thus for thee, but at thy  
  
bidding, I shall rise." And he did, causing Ranma to look quite a way up  
  
in the process.  
  
"As to your question, Kuno-san, I am Akibarae Akiho, not a  
  
goddess. Simply a fair maid, like the rest about us." She said,  
  
referring the now quite obvious crowd gathered around them.  
  
"Nay! Say not such blasphemous things! You are like a beacon to  
  
their waning candles, a true representation of their meager forgery of  
  
beauty. A rare sight to behold are you, fair Akibarae-sama, and rarer  
  
still as I, to the lament of the very heavens!, must depart." Kuno said,  
  
real tears falling freely from his eyes, his very being crying out in  
  
remorse. Ranma would have dismissed it as play-acting if she could not  
  
read his ki, and the truth of the actions.  
  
'Wow. This guy wears his heart on his sleeve.` She thought,  
  
thinking kindly of him despite the unwanted attention. "Sad tidings  
  
indeed, Kuno-san. But I wish thee well."  
  
"And I thee, fair Akibarae-sama!" In the blink of an eye, he  
  
brought forth a dozen red roses and presented them to her. "Take this,  
  
though, a minor tribute to the wonder that is yourself."  
  
Ranma blinked. That had been close to, but not quite, the Hidden  
  
Weapons technique. `Intriguing.` "I thank thee. Now, I bid thee take  
  
leave, before thy train departs."  
  
"Indeed. Farewell!" And with a final smile, he was gone.  
  
The crowd about her was whispering amongst themselves at the  
  
display, but Ranma paid them no mind. A strange, kindly man, the  
  
encounter of whom left her in the possession of a dozen red roses. An  
  
expensive bouquet to be had in Japan.  
  
They would make a fitting gift to her mother.  
  
Maybe a chocolate cake, too...  
  
Ranma found herself weighted down with the roses, and a bag  
  
containing cakes and pastries enough for five during the ride back; but  
  
she didn't mind. The expression on her mother's face when she came home  
  
would be more than worth it.  
  
The look on Nodoka's face was indeed worth it, but only slightly  
  
offset what was to come. "Ra- Ara, Akiho! I wasn't expecting you so  
  
soon!"  
  
"Hello, Mother! I come, bearing gifts, as well."  
  
Nodoka's smile practically lit up the room as she saw the roses.  
  
Oddly, though, it faded as quickly as it appeared. "You shouldn't have,  
  
dear... but come in, come in, there are two people here I'd like you to  
  
meet."  
  
Ranma allowed herself to be ushered inside, and then stood  
  
still, as she recognized the two other people in the modest living room.  
  
"You?" She said kindly to one, and then a flatter, "Oh."  
  
"By the gods, the heavens show but infinite mercy!"  
  
"What in the hell are you going on about now?"  
  
"Akiho," Nodoka cut in, smiling tiredly, "I'd like you to meet  
  
my late friend's daughter, Tendou Akane... and her escort, Kuno  
  
Tatewaki. Akane-chan, Kuno-san, this is my niece, Akibarae Akiho."  
  
"Pleased to meet you." She said with as much false cheer as she  
  
could manage. "Again."  
  
End Chapter One.  
  
Author's Notes:  
  
End Chapter One. My GOD how it does feel good to say that. Even  
  
if it hasn't been fully pre-read or completely tweaked the way I'd like  
  
it, It's still a great feeling. I've been working on this off and on,  
  
mostly off, ever since the idea for it first struck me in back in 1996.  
  
The first version I regard as a highly successful failure, and this  
  
second... I'd like to think it refined a lot, while still touching on  
  
many of the theoretical questioned raised in the first. What would  
  
happen if an older Ranma came to the Tendou home, sans Genma? And if  
  
Ranma met with his mother with no reservations, how would their meeting  
  
go? What kind of relationship could a more mature Akane and Ranma create  
  
for themselves, or would one even be possible? Would Kuno still be a  
  
Fruit Basket?  
  
Surely I haven't answered them all yet, which is good -leaves me  
  
with more material to use for future chapters. And yes, I do plan on  
  
writing more of this. It's too good to let alone, and I know I'm slow at  
  
producing decent chunks of writing, but I'm slow because I want it to be  
  
decent. Trade-offs, always trade offs.  
  
I have a long list of acknowledgements to be made for this. Many  
  
people have helped with this piece, first and foremost being my dear  
  
friend Johanna Pierson. Thanks, Jo -for telling me to write, Or Else.  
  
And to the others who have spoken words of wisdom, and offered  
  
invaluable advice in years past:  
  
Gary Kleppe (Before Moderator Version :)  
  
Gary Kleppe (After Moderator Version :P)  
  
D.F. Roeder  
  
Jourdan M. Bickham  
  
Aaron E Nowack  
  
Brian Randall  
  
Donald Lee Granberry  
  
Bradford Boswell  
  
Jim Leek  
  
Bryan Neef  
  
Tangent  
  
Chris Siebenmann  
  
Robert Knighton  
  
Dave Plewes (sp?)  
  
John Cope  
  
David Stanley  
  
DragonBard  
  
Knight_Hawke  
  
Joerg Janshen-Jaeger  
  
Bert Miller  
  
Brad Crawford  
  
Harold Ancell  
  
Video Game Addicted Person (VGAP)  
  
Wow. That's a lot of people. Thanks for the Help; I needed it.  
  
And now, a merry Christmas to all.  
  
-JJ Corley  
  
This has been a  
  
Ludicrous Configuration! Productions  
  
Presented work of fan-fiction  
  
Written by JJ Corley  
  
http://mslcp.cjb.net 


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